Jinx Minx

Once upon a time - a long long time ago - when Lil Princess was still pure, and she had not yet been sexually defiled in triple digit amounts by mindless wastoid hog apes, and before she ravished herself beyond repair, back she was young, about 18...that was a good time.

Your Lil Princess had not yet done sex work, then, and she was a college student. An ad in the local paper boasted $400 per hour to take photos, no sex involved. Imagine this - $400, and no sex. What could that mean? I couldn't help to be curious. That was the equivalent pay for like two weeks of my telemarketing salary, 40 hours, for a mere hour. And I did not have to break any of my boundaries that have long since been blown through, because there was no sex involved.

A polite man answered when I called the number listed in the ad. He wanted to know my age and my measurements and if I was comfortable in front of a camera. I told him I was. Visions of how many pints of Dimitri vodka I could buy for 400 bucks were sloshing through my then much-clearer head.

At the time, I had just started drinking and had a special taste for cheap vodka, which I have never been able to shake, but now instead of a special taste, its an insatiable craving. So I agreed to meet this fellow a few doors away from the old Jinx Cafe on Division Street.

I was so nervous going up there. I knew Jinx Cafe. I had been there many times, but I didn't know that there was a "special interest" studio just around the corner from it. I had no idea what to expect. No sex...$400 an hour. What could this be?

When I got to the address, I rang a doorbell, the one with the red dot next to it. The one I was told to ring. Much to my surprise it was a regular apartment building, not a huge scummy pornatorium. I entered the apartment, and I realized it was just a scummy crash pad, with a guy and a mini DV video camera, much like most of the sleazy porn that I was to be in later in life.

A black man with dreadlocks welcomed me, and he seemed nice enough. The apartment was gross, with leather couches, and I saw a chair surrounded by lights. I assumed that was to be my stage, but what the fuck was I going to do?

While walking in, I noticed a long table with a stained cloth covering it. My mind took note of it. The Nubian prince asked me if I was comfortable being nude in front of the camera. I said yes. He made me take my shirt off. I was a bit put off...by the whole situation...I wanted to go home. He commented on the size of my nipples: Big, good, mmmm...

He asked me to take off my pants then. I wanted to be a pro. So fucking stupid. When I removed my underwear to reveal my hairy crotch, he told me I would have to shave. I didn't know a shower and a shave was included in the deal. And now I realized that I'd have to use this shithead's razor, which had previously cut who-knows-who's who-knows-where.

I came out clean and shaved. Four hundred dollars. That was all I tried to focus on. Four hundred dollars. I left my pubes sticking out of the razor and all over his shower and his bar of soap. I wanted to make the place even more disgusting than it was to begin with. I still didn't know what the fuck I was doing.

When I returned to the main room, the king of ashy class told me that I looked much better. He then took me to the long table with the stained towel over it. He removed the towel only to reveal about 12 dildos of different sizes and shapes. There were so many. They smelled of cum and asshole, a smell that I was not yet so familiar with, but I knew it was foul.

He picked out a sex toy for me. It was the biggest, blackest, longest, thickest two-sided one. He then told me I had to masturbate with it for 30 whole minutes. And that would get me 200 dollars.

It didn't seem too bad. What's 30 minutes? An episode of Different Strokes? Shit, for $200 dollars, I could shove this big, black thing up me and pretend to enjoy it. Yeah, right. I picked it up and it stuck to my hand.

My host instructed me to put lube on the toy and go to town. I sat down in the chair with the cheap lighting around it. He took out his mini DV camcorder and I lubed the sticky long black stem. Then I very reluctantly put it in my hole, trying to be as mindless as possible. I worked it up in me. Up and down. He asked me if I was getting wet myself.

What the fuck?, I thought. How in the fuck could I be getting wet in this fucking disgusting monster's apartment after using a hepatitis-laced razor to shave my bathing suit areas and now I'm shoving this sticky AIDS-basted double-ended cold slithery sluggish thing up my cunt-hole? No sir. Not wet.

How long was I doing this for? This must have been at least 10 or 15 minutes. He told me to touch my breasts. I did. Then I stopped. It's surely almost long enough. I asked him how long it had been.

"Not yet two minutes," he told me.

I almost gagged and fainted.

Okay, I guessed I could work this thing in and out of me and touch my boobs and make a noise now and then and hold it out for another 28 minutes...right? Ummmm...No. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

This was the most simultaneously repugnant and boring thing I had ever done in my life. How the fuck could I continue? Don't think...Just shove it in the hole and moan...But my mind can't help but wander. I count. Each second feels like a fucking year. This is way worse than trying to sell Sears credit cards to old people. In and out it goes. More lube. More cold. How much time now? 5 minutes..."Are you nervous??"...Umm...200 dollars..."No, sir, not nervous"...Shit...UUUgh...This dildo is black. I cannot see what possible fluids have been on it, all I know is that it was sticky...Six minutes...Then I start to imagine the person who would watch this for this long. If I could not even do it, who the fuck could watch the same girl masturbating with the same dildo for 30 whole minutes...Six minutes and 30 seconds..."You're nervous"...I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!...Yes mister. I have to stop . . .

I walked out of there with $50, 4 venereal diseases, a shaved pussy, and my first experience in the adult film world. Wonderful. Sickening. Shameful. Private. Piggish. It took me awhile to recover from.

Still, I could not complain. It was all consensual. He did not hurt me. I did everything by my own will and when I said I couldn't take it, he paid me 50 bucks and was apologetic.

That was my first taste of the sleazy adult world. There would be countless more episodes. Many more where I did not get paid. Many that are even more harrowing and stomach-churning. But this was the first.

I just actually remembered this the other day when discussing the cafe, Jinx. I said, "Oh yeah, that's right near where I did my first porno gig thing at." I sat down and remembered how beautifully horrible it all was.

So why, then, did I go ultimately back and do it again? And again. I don't know. But I have no regrets. I guess. Sticky black dildos. Black pornographer. Dirty razors. Dirty money. Dirty videos.

It works for me.